


To Be Number One

by goatsghost (orphan_account)



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Character Study, Gen, Luther Hargreeves Needs A Hug, No Incest, Rated T for a brief sentence about Ben’s death, i’m trying to see where he’s coming from, look - Freeform, luther sucks but he was also abused just like the rest of them
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-21
Updated: 2020-02-21
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:55:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22829050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/goatsghost
Summary: Luther was the best—he had to be. Why else would Father call him “Number One,” if not as a ranking system between him and his siblings?A character study on Luther’s thought process through the years, and how being “Number One” might influence his actions in the future.
Relationships: Luther Hargreeves & Everyone, Luther Hargreeves & Reginald Hargreeves
Kudos: 27





	To Be Number One

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this at midnight in a spur of the moment burst of inspiration. I honestly don’t know where this came from or if it’s coherent or not. I just wanted to take a look at Luther’s character, pre-canon. So. Enjoy.

Luther was the best—he had to be. Why else would Father call him “Number One,” if not as a ranking system between him and his siblings? 

The system was obvious, he was the leader, Diego was his Number Two, all the way down to Vanya, Number Seven, who wasn’t anything special at all. 

It was just the way things were. Who was he to question Father’s motives? He clearly had their best interests at heart—he was raising the next group of heroes, after all. Improve their powers, fight daily crime, stop the apocalypse. Simple, really.

But as the years went on, the others didn’t seem to agree. 

...

They were thirteen when Five got ahead of himself. Five—and, in all honesty, Klaus, as well—didn’t obey Father the way they used to. The way they were _supposed_ to. 

Barely more than a, “But I’m ready. See?” and an ignored, “No,” and Five was gone. 

Luther expected him to be back by lights out because, sure, Five could get irrational at times, but he wasn’t crazy. He’d be back by morning and Father wouldn’t get too upset with any of them. 

He checked Five’s room before heading down for breakfast, though, just to be sure.

The bed was untouched. Not untouched in the way that Five accidentally forgot to go to sleep and passed out on the floor, or untouched in the way that he forgot to make his bed and let Mother do it for him before he could get in trouble. This was untouched like Five had never been back at all. 

Even all his books were in order, and Luther knew Five had to fiddle with _something_ before calling it a day. 

Five hadn’t come back. 

Five left them. 

Five was gone. 

Oh, shit. Five was _gone_. He was gone and left the six of them to deal with the consequences. How could he do that to them? How could he do that to _him_? Who did he think he was? 

Where could Five even go, at thirteen, with his face plastered on every other magazine cover as part of the prestigious Umbrella Academy? 

What was he thinking? He’d be sent home within the week, and all seven of them would receive Father’s punishment. It wasn’t fair! How could Five be so selfish?

Luther backed out of Five’s room before he could get caught snooping. 

...

For what it was worth, he was right. 

“Number One,” Father said, breaking his own rule of no talking at the dining table. “Where is Number Five?”

Luther looked down at his half-eaten plate of fish and vegetables. He steeled himself, worried the food might come back up. 

“It appears that he hasn’t returned home yet. Sir.”

Father hummed into his wine glass. “It does appear so.”

Luther tried catching his siblings’ eyes, but none dared look up from their plates. Even Klaus had the sense to keep his head down for this one, even if, simultaneously, he none so subtly toyed with a blunt in his coat pocket. 

“I’m disappointed in you, Number One,” Father said at last. And that was the end of it. No lecture about needing to work harder to keep his siblings in line. No explanation as to what his punishment would be. Just a simple, emotionless, _I’m disappointed in you_.

Somehow, that stung worse. 

The disappointment and dread only grew from there. Missions went horribly.

Five had been their capable distraction. He was cocky and sarcastic and knew how to get away with it. He started fights, but could carry the team well enough for them to trust him with their safety. 

If Luther was their brute strength, Five was more covert strength. He was their sneak attack, their wild card, something to spice up (within reason) their game plans. Without Five, they lacked an integral team member. It just wasn’t the same without him. 

Luther hoped he’d come back soon. Not just because of the disappointed glares he’d received since Five’s disappearance, but also not _not_ because of them.

Just four missions without him already put a wrench in their teamwork. He wasn’t sure how much more the team could take.

They went on failed mission after failed mission. Father put them in more stringent training regimens. Team exercises became commonplace. Though nothing seemed to fill the void that Five left. 

Sure, Luther and Five weren’t the closest of siblings. If Luther had to pick favorites, Five _may_ have once been in the top three, but not reliably. 

But that didn’t mean Luther didn’t feel his absence every goddamn day. He didn’t miss the way Vanya stayed up past curfew to litter the living room in PB & marshmallow sandwiches, or the way Ben ventured as far up and down the block as the everpresent gaze of their father allowed, or the way Klaus actually tried getting sober for a few days at a time to try to summon Five’s ghost.

Their house was a mess, and Luther knew no amount of extra training or extra punishments would patch them up like new again. 

...

Which was why Ben dying had come as no surprise. At least, in retrospect.

Luther didn’t know whose fault it had been. Maybe Diego’s. Probably Klaus’.

It had been a horrible mission to begin with; they were terribly coordinated and had gotten too quickly overwhelmed. Ben left Luther’s line of sight for five seconds—maybe a minute—to take out a group of armed men, but when Luther next saw him, it was in a pile of unmoving limbs and expanding pool of blood that this time definitely came from his own body this time.

He didn’t know how they got home, or when.

All he knew was, one minute, he was in the bank, surrounded by his siblings and the mutilated bodies of several dozen robbers, and the next, he was squeezing himself into the corner of his room, his hands and his uniform tacky with drying blood.

Luther couldn’t really hear Father’s voice when he dished out lectures the following week. He didn’t really hear the eulogy, either, at Ben’s funeral. Or the construction noises as his statue got set up in the yard. The next few weeks, in fact, were a bit fuzzy in Luther’s mind.

...

Something snapped in him, one day. He still wasn’t over Five’s abandonment or Ben’s death, but he pushed past it, in the spirit of crime fighting and salvaging what team they had left.

Allison had taken up acting—Disney Channel had been expecting her audition for _a while_ , at least now she was seventeen, nearly an adult capable of signing her own rights away—so she was out of the house a lot. 

Klaus showed up here and there, though he was mostly high, nowadays. Luther guessed Ben’s death had been hard on him, Klaus rarely shut up about what funny thing “Ben” said recently. It was starting to grate on his nerves. It was one thing to find comfort in remembering Ben fondly, it was something completely different to tell lies and tarnish their brother’s memory. 

Vanya unofficially “moved out” as soon as she could. She got her own job and rented from some friend—Luther didn’t care for the details. But it wasn’t like she was ever a part of the team anyway. Her absence wouldn’t be the end of the world. 

The only one with the same passion for crime fighting, as much as he hated to admit it, was Diego. But he was Number Two for a reason—of course he’d keep Luther on his toes. Of course he’d still want to fight for the title of Number One. That was _what they did_. 

So Luther and Diego (with the occasional team up with Allison and Klaus) kept the spirit of the Umbrella Academy alive. But without the others’ constant interjections to keep the peace between them, Luther and Diego rarely got any quality work done. 

It wasn’t _Luther’s_ fault that Diego wouldn’t listen to him. It wasn’t _Luther’s_ fault that Diego would rather go off on his own than follow orders.

If Diego wanted to get himself killed like Ben, then Luther wouldn’t stop him.

But he didn’t really mean that. Did he?

Either way, it wouldn’t matter in the long run. Because Klaus left the house, Allison moved to California, and Diego started training at the police academy.

Who cared that they were supposed to save the world? Who cared that they were supposed to stay a team?

Luther could save the world by himself. He was Number One. He was the strong one. He could do it _better_ than the way they did it as a team. Six weak kids could equate to one strong twenty-year-old. Theoretically.

He could do this.

…

He couldn’t do this.

Just when he thought he’d redeemed himself in Father’s eyes, he went and screwed up a mission and woke up in a body that wasn’t his own. 

Father wouldn’t even look at him anymore. He was a monster.

He failed. 

...

He pushed himself harder. Harder than he’d ever worked before. He had to acclimate to his new body, his new strengths, but he could be better than before. 

He just had to do better. 

A few years passed where Luther was the sole member of the Umbrella Academy. Diego had gotten accepted, then swiftly booted, from the police department; Allison had begun climbing the ranks of Hollywood through several up-and-coming films; Klaus had been in and out of both the hospital and rehab; and Vanya had written a book slandering them all.

Still nothing from Five, and Ben was dead and buried. 

Out of the five of them left, Luther had to say he was proud that he, without a doubt, preserved his title of Number One. There was no doubt that he was the best child among them. Where they all tried and failed at starting themselves anew, Luther held up the fort on his own, building and rebuilding the Academy all by himself. 

And Father had finally come back around. He’d heard Father and Pogo’s not-so-quiet mutterings about big plans in the works. They planned to start research on the moon, of all places.

Luther knew his worth.

He had finally built back his father’s trust; there was no other person more suited to man this moon mission than Luther. Father could count on him. 

After all, _he_ was the Umbrella Academy. 

**Author's Note:**

> After writing this, I kinda want to make a part two where Luther reflects on what happened during season one......... hmm. what do y’all think ??


End file.
